


Slippery Situation

by nubianamy



Series: Donutverse 50 Kinky Ways [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Humor, M/M, Oil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:44:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>50 Kinky Ways prompt #5: Oil.  Puck makes salad dressing.  Kurt undresses Puck, is accidentally dressed, then dresses him down and is undressed by him.  Warnings for m/m sex, food porn, sappy sex dialogue and one really bad pun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slippery Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Christiescorner.com for instructions on making salad dressing.

Puck picked up the bottle of olive oil and gave it a little shake. "So, basically, you need five things to make a good dressing."

Kurt rested his hands on his lap, ankles crossed, ever the attentive student. "All right," he said.

"One: oil." He held aloft the bottle. "Don't bother with anything too pricey. Some ordinary stuff from the grocery store is fine, as long as it's not rancid. Most people like olive oil, or safflower is good. I like to add some sesame oil for flavor."

While Kurt watched avidly, Puck poured two cups of olive oil into the large mason jar on the table. He licked a splash off the side of his hand. "Hey," Kurt said, raising an eyebrow. "That's my job."

Puck grinned and went on. "Two: acid." He held up the balsamic vinegar. "You can also use red or white wine vinegars, or lemon juice." A cup of balsamic vinegar went into the mason jar. He sliced the lime in half and squeezed its juice on top, then obligingly offered his hand to Kurt.

Kurt leaned slowly across the table, gazing at Puck under lowered lids, and tasted the dripping lime juice on Puck's wrist with the tip of his tongue. "Mmm," he said, "tangy." He made short work of the rest of the lime juice with three long licks. Puck closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation, and left them closed for a moment when Kurt was done.

"Please," said Kurt, low and melodic. "Do go on."

Puck cleared his throat. "Uh. Three: something sweet." He added a splash of apple juice to the mixture and swirled it. "Sugar, honey, syrup – anything will do."

"Honey," suggested Kurt, his tongue on his lips. Puck blinked and swallowed.

"Maybe next time," he said hoarsely. "Moving on. Four: salt." Puck took a pinch from the dish and sprinkled it in. "You want this?" he said, offering his fingertips to Kurt.

"Hmm." Kurt considered them, but shook his head. "I think I'll pass. What's number five?"

"Aromatics." Puck flourished his chef's knife and indicated the herbs arrayed on his cutting board. "Shallots… garlic… basil and cilantro." He quickly minced the shallots and crushed the garlic, then coarsely chopped the herbs and slid the whole pile into the mason jar. "That's it. Then you just put the lid on nice and tight, shake it, and pour it all over… uh…" He shrank back from Kurt's expression. "All over…"

"Pour it all over  _what?"_  Kurt said silkily.

"Salad?" Puck gulped. "Or whatever…"

"Excellent." Kurt strode around the table and pressed Puck up against the refrigerator, knocking down three magnets, a shopping list and a picture drawn by Brad's daughter Cory. "I think you need a snack."

Puck gasped as Kurt ran his hands along Puck's rib cage, up under his arms and drew his hands up above his head. "You want me to try the dressing?" Puck said, faintly.

"I think I'd like you to try… drizzling it on something." Kurt's fingers traced a line from Puck's hands, all the way down his arm, along the line of his ribs, to the hem of his shirt. Kurt tucked his fingers under the shirt and inched it up, revealing a stripe of tanned stomach. "I'm sure it will taste  _delicious."_

"Oh, god," Puck whispered. He heaved his T-shirt over his head and tossed it in the corner, then kicked off his shorts. He made similarly short work of Kurt's sweater and pants, though Kurt reclaimed the item of clothing before Puck could toss it on the floor ("It's a Smalto runway piece!"). With a few sweeps of his hands, he cleared the counter, scooped Kurt up in his arms and laid him out like a smorgasbord.

Kurt made an exclamation of pleasure and surprise, and he leaned up into Puck's touch as he stroked him with both hands. "Now that you've undressed me," Kurt smiled, fingertips lightly touching Puck's bare chest, outlining his nipple ring, "you can… dress me."

Puck grasped the mason jar and gave it a vigorous shake…

… to the abject horror of Kurt, who screeched as the lid flew off, dousing him with torrents of basil-cilantro vinaigrette.

"I thought you tightened the lid," Puck said, gazing in shock at a drenched, furious Kurt, who was no longer lounging upon the countertop. He was now sitting up, legs over the edge of the counter, wiping the excess dressing out of his eyes and letting it drip off his toes.

"I didn't  _touch_  it, Noah," Kurt shrieked. The dressing was in his hair – oh,  _fuck,_ it was in his  _hair,_ Puck thought,  _I'm really in for it now –_  and Puck tried to comb it out with his fingers, but Kurt just smacked his hand away. "Do  _not_  attempt to make it better without at least six different kinds of product."

"It can't be worse than slushies," Puck said hopefully, as Kurt stalked off to the bathroom. "Can't I get in the shower with –"

" _No."_

"Jeez," he sighed, pouting. "This sucks."

* * *

It wasn't until much later, long after Kurt had finished his shower and Puck had cleaned up the kitchen, that they were alone again together. Puck cautiously sat on the end of the couch where Kurt was curled up, reading, in his white robe. He thoroughly ignored Puck. It was the most pointed snubbing Puck had ever experienced.

"Sorry," Puck muttered, flickering his eyes at Kurt.

Kurt went on ignoring him. He turned a page and sighed quietly.

"I was thinking I might… have a way to apologize… that you would enjoy," Puck went on, taking out a bottle of jojoba oil. Kurt didn't say anything, but his gaze went briefly to the bottle before he continued reading.

Then he casually adjusted the way he was sitting, stretching out his legs so they went along the couch, about halfway to where Puck was sitting. They were close enough so that Puck could touch them, should he decide to reach out and do so.

He did, running his strong hand over Kurt's pale calf, then along the arch of his foot, and finally taking the heel of his hand into his palm. Kurt's breath lengthened, and he sighed again as he stretched his legs.

"Kurt," Puck said, uncapping the jojoba oil and squeezing some into his hand. "I'm really sorry for what happened."

"Oh?" Kurt said, finally looking at Puck over the cover of his book.

"I didn't mean to spill that dressing on you," he said, coating Kurt's foot and calf with a thin layer of oil. Puck's thumbs dug a pattern into the arch of his foot, up along the underside, making Kurt's eyelids drop a little more each time he rubbed, until Kurt was relaxing into his touch, the book forgotten in his lap.

"I know, sweetheart," Kurt murmured. "It's okay."

"I really liked making it for you, though." Puck gave him a shy smile, continuing the circles of his thumb, up along Kurt's calf, separating the muscle with gentle pressure. "I love cooking for you."

"Uhhhh," Kurt said, letting his legs part slightly, and his robe slid to one side, revealing the creamy white skin of his thigh. Puck ran his hand up to touch the skin, and the robe fell open completely.

"God, Hummel," Puck groaned, coming up on his knees, leaning over Kurt to kiss him on the neck. "You're more delicious without dressing."

His slick hands slid into the space between Kurt's legs and spread him open, leaving big greasy handprints on Kurt's ass. Kurt made quiet moans, bending his legs back to give Puck better access, and gazed up at Puck from the couch. "This is my favorite thing with you, Noah," he said, eyes dark and loving.

"Really?" Puck blurted, shocked. It took him a minute to recover, but Kurt nudged the oil back into action, and he poured some more into his hand before he spread it evenly along Kurt's tight, puckered opening. Kurt's breath caught as he tucked a finger inside and stroked the muscle there, helping it relax. "God. Your favorite thing? Really?"

"Yeah," Kurt admitted. "I love it when you lay me out like this. Like I'm a meal you're preparing, each dish just so. You're so careful, so precise. So much attention to detail." He pulled Puck into a kiss, and felt his arousal pressed against his ass. "You're such a good lover. And a good cook."

"I guess… I've been practicing a while," Puck grinned. "I'm glad, though, because – because now I can be good for you. Because it really matters, you know. With you." He slid another finger inside him, rubbing deep inside, along the ridged tissue that made Kurt writhe and gasp.

"I hope I can be just as good for you, someday," Kurt said, blushing. Puck gazed at him with astonishment.

"What are you talking about?" He was so surprised that he stopped moving, and Kurt had to touch his hand to get him to resume his touches. "Oh, sorry. What do you mean,  _someday?"_

"Well," Kurt hesitated, "I've never really done this with anybody before you, and Finn. I don't have a lot of experience."

Puck's answer was immediate and clear: his thick cock, coated with a liberal dose of jojoba oil, pressing insistently into Kurt's ass. "Does this feel like somebody who needs it to feel any  _better?"_  he growled. "Because any better and I'd be coming all over your lap, instead of in your ass."

"Oh," Kurt cried, taking a hitching breath, as Puck slid suddenly into Kurt's body, his tight belly pressed right up against Kurt's now rock-hard cock, filling him. "God, that's…  _so_  much what I wanted."

"You feel incredible, baby," Puck said, licking his lips, pulling back and sliding forward again, cautiously, deliberately, seeking that perfect angle. It didn't take long.

"Oh – fuck,  _Noah,"_  he said, his breath coming in shuddering pants. "You… you feel… god, there's nothing like you, inside me."

"Yeah," Puck groaned. The oil was different from their usual lube, not quite as slippery, but softer somehow, feeling more like skin, with a little friction. It was driving him crazy. "The way you feel – baby, I can't get enough."

Kurt let his head fall back against the back of the green couch, lifting his hips up and driving himself against Puck's thrusts, giving as good as he got. "That's it," Kurt urged, his breathing speeding up, "that's it… yes, sweetheart, that's just right, just like that…  _oh!"_

"Kurt," Puck gasped, and felt his release wrung out of him as Kurt's cock, untouched, twitched and writhed against his belly. He managed to wrap one hand around Kurt's cock and strip it just twice before Kurt came all over his smooth chest.

Puck collapsed on top of Kurt, and they just lay there, panting and heaving, for almost a minute before either one could talk. "You're going to have to finish that foot massage another time," Kurt said, his voice low and husky in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

"Oh, yeah?" Puck said, his lips tipping up in a smile.

Kurt drew Puck down on top of him, pressing their bodies together. "I need this first. You feel too good."

"Suits me." He curled up on Kurt's chest, finding the way their legs and arms slid together just so, the perfect fit of their bodies. He closed his eyes. "I'm ready for a rest."

"Welcome to Hummel Tires and Lube," Kurt murmured, and it was a while before they stopped laughing.


End file.
